Words Left Unsaid
by Ulquiorra-isn't-emo
Summary: Iggy's feelings about Max and Fang's relationship. T for slight romance and character death.


POS

**A/N: Inspired by .Breeze's 'Into His Arms.' Check hers out, it's awesome. Anyway, T for character death, suicide, angst, and slight romance.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, right.**

**Love ya'll,**

**~Ulquiorra-isnt-emo**

You can't help but smile when she walks by. She electrifies the air around her, so it's easy to tell when she passes by.

You wish you could see her, see her return your smile.

If she's even smiling back at you.

If she's not too busy smiling at someone else.

If she's not smiling at him.

Leaving your grin completely unnoticed.

You try not to hate him. It's not his fault she prefers him over you.

It's not his fault she doesn't like you.

It's not his fault he hit on her even though he knew you liked her.

It's not his fault he took her from you without sparing a thought to how you might feel about it.

It's not his fault at all.

You hate dealing with all these complicated emotions. You hate the jealousy that flares up when you hear tenderness in her voice as she talks about him. You hate rage that makes you punch and hit things. You hate the sadness that always follows the anger, that leaves you sobbing into your pillow. You hate the empty sensation, the only thing left after you've used up your all your other feelings.

You hate it all.

You hate yourself for feeling these things. You hate the way she makes tingle all over, knowing you can't keep her. You hate the way she consoles you, pressing a comforting shoulder against yours and demanding to know the problem. You hate how weak it makes you feel that you're experiencing all this.

And yet you love it.

You can't survive without her touch. You would die if not for the sound of her footsteps. Living without her smell would kill you. She is your only lifeline.

She is the only reason you are alive.

So do you do now? You hate everything she does to you, the hell she wreaks on your brain. And you love it. You need it.

But all this is destroying you from the insides.

She's a tease. You can sense her, smell her, hear her, but she will never be yours. She will always be just out of your reach, constantly close enough to cause you to think you can jump to reach her, in the end only making you crash to the ground, harder each time.

She notices.

She notices the way you grimace when his name is mentioned. She catches on to the subtle things you do to avoid him, such as going out for a fly or escaping to the kitchen. She watches you as you stare sightlessly out a window, lost in your anguish.

She confronts you.

At first she's gentle. She asks what you're upset. You refuse to tell her anything. It will only make it worse for you if she knows. She gets more insistent, commanding you to tell her your problem. You shake your head numbly, aware that he has walked in. She throws her hands up, and with one last frustrated look at you, she leaves, him trailing behind her.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

You lay back in your bed, trying not to listen to the sounds coming from down the hall. You bury your head under the covers, but it's not enough to block out the pleasured moans.

Your gift is a curse.

It seems everything good is slipping away. Your cooking starts to fail, and your explosive detonate early, late, or not at all.

Some of your friends notice. They confront you, but leave you be after you snap at them.

You decide there's no reason for you to stay on this planet. Your only incentive to stay alive is her, and you can't have her.

So why stay?

A perfect opportunity rises soon. It's the middle of the night, and she's fallen asleep on the couch after a movie marathon. You untangle you legs from the blanket, now half on the floor.

You creep silently over to her.

Kissing her cheek gently, you murmur those three words you've always wanted to say to her.

She shifts slightly, starting to awake. You quickly stride away from her, finding the nearest window.

The cool night air rushes in. You enjoy the feeling of it. You jump up, perching on the window sill.

A cry sounds just as you launch yourself from the window.

Air rushes past you as you fall head first, down, down, down. You keep your wings tightly folded against your back.

You hear and smell memories flash through your mind. But it's not your entire life. All the memories have a similar theme.

They all have something to do with her.

These are the things you want to remember about her. Her touch, her smell, her voice. When she's angry, sad, determined, caring, indignant, happy. When's she's flying next to you. When she's complimenting your cooking. When she's sharing a tender moment with you.

These are the things you want to remember about her.

Not the agonized, heartbroken scream that follows you down the canyon to your death.


End file.
